


Merely Passing Strangers

by Cosmic_Biscuit



Category: Tiger and Bunny
Genre: Drama, Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-17
Updated: 2011-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-26 05:15:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Biscuit/pseuds/Cosmic_Biscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of twelve, Rory Brooks died at the hand of Albert Maverick, and Barnaby Brooks Jr. was born in his place. At age twenty-six, with Maverick gone, Barnaby is starting to get impressions of who Rory was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Little Luck, A Little Curse

With almost eight years to his 'tenure', little Rory Brooks had been at the home the longest out of the current brood of children.

None of the kids understood why.

Even though he'd started showing NEXT powers three months earlier, they didn't get it. Rory knew everything about how the home worked, and all the hiding places for the cookies. He was always nice to all of them, the littlest ones especially, and always ready to fix a toy or help with dinner, or join in the cheering when they all wanted to watch Hero TV. He was cute (so said the girls, who loved that he'd good-naturedly put up with their penchant for bows in his hair) and fun to play with (so said the boys, especially after everyone discovered his powers were great for getting kites out of trees). The grownups seemed to like him because he was always polite and smiling.

But none of the people who ever came to the house ever wanted the paperwork for him. Even the nice old lady who visited sometimes and sent a cake on his birthday (that he always shared, which was another reason the kids liked him) never asked about taking him home with her for good.

It was very strange.

But as kids were wont to do, none of them ever dwelt on it long.

Especially not today, because it was Rory's birthday and _Halloween_ , which meant the traditional cake from the nice old lady, and _costumes_ , and _candy_ , and everything else _awesome_ about the holiday. They had all spent all day in the big playroom, putting together their costumes under Mr. Fierson's watchful eye and the amused help of the home aides. Alicia was giggling as she spun around in her flower fairy dress, Jakeem was gleefully roaring at everybody as the Cowardly Lion (he wasn't very good at being cowardly), and several Heroes were bouncing about warning off any evildoers hidden in the shadows.

"What's that gonna be?" Sean asked, peering over Rory's shoulder as the older boy worked.

"My robot costume," Rory replied with a grin, holding up a spray-painted helmet in progress. "Isn't it cool?"

" _Yeah!_ But I thought you were gonna be Wild Tiger this year, since he made King of Heroes and everything."

"I changed my mind."

"How come?"

"Dunno, just felt like being a robot."

"Oh. Neat! But, um... could you maybe help me a little, too?"

It took nearly half an hour to peel all the little bits of glitter and glue out the ruff of Sean's parrot costume and finish the robot. Even when others joined in to help, they barely managed to clean up just in time for one of the aides to call everyone down to sort into trick-or-treating groups. As they bolted pell-mell down the hallway towards the main stairs, Ms. Johansson's voice called Rory's name from the registry office they passed, and he skidded to a halt.

Unfortunately, it was with Faiza, Rachel, and Caleb still coming behind him, and all four went down in a heap of costumes and flailing limbs until the aides could get them sorted out. Blushing brightly, Rory quickly apologized to the others and slipped into the office. Through the doorway, they could see an older man in glasses and a suit waiting with the home director.

Maybe Rory'd get adopted today. That'd be cool, since it was his birthday and all. But not as cool as trick-or-treating, so when the aides ushered them along, they all resumed the run to the front hall without a second thought.

 

Rory brightened when he saw the director's guest. "Mr. Maverick!" he said, running to give his parents' old friend a hug. "I got your last letter. What was China like? Do you want any of the cake Aunt Samantha sent? We still have some left."

The man chuckled and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Inquisitive as always, aren't you? It was a very dull trip, unfortunately, and no, thank you."

"Are you staying long?" Rory asked, not really inclined to let go yet, even though his costume made the hug rather awkward.

"Only for a few days, then I'm afraid business calls again. But since I'm in town for your birthday this year, I thought we might go somewhere fun."

"Can I, Ms. Johansson?" Rory asked over his shoulder to the director, putting all his best efforts into a pleading expression, and the woman shook her head in amusement at the face he made, then stood from her desk chair.

"I don't see why not. Mr. Maverick has submitted all of the proper forms, and he _is_ one of your allowed contacts. Have a good time, Rory."

 _Beaming_ , Rory finally released the hug and accepted an offered hand, pulling on his helmet as he trotted after the man towards the stairs.

" _This_ is where we're going?" Rory asked excitedly as he peered out the car window at the fairgrounds, dazzled by all the lights and how huge everything was.

"It is. Ready?"

" _Yes!_ I'm gonna ride _everything!_ "

He hadn't wanted to leave his costume behind, but Mr. Maverick had made the reasonable point that a lot of things had involved water, and wouldn't it be a shame if his costume was ruined before he got to wear it to the party the grownups at the home had planned for when everyone was done trick-or-treating? So all the cardboard bits lay safe in the back seat of the man's car, and Rory only wore the long black t-shirt and leggings he'd had as the undersuit as he followed his keeper into the festivities.

"How have you been doing keeping a handle on your powers?"

"Okay, so far," Rory said, after remembering he'd mentioned it in his last letter. "Um, except for the speed. I'm not very good with that yet. Last time, it kind of activated on its own while we were playing dodgeball and... um... I kind of put a hole in the playground wall," he finished in a quick rush. It had been really _embarrassing_ when it had happened. The other kids had all been staring, and one of the aides had flipped out at seeing him in the pile of rubble, thinking he'd hurt himself.

A hand on his head startled him out of the memory, and he looked up to find Mr. Maverick offering a cup of warm cider from a nearby vendor, expression all at once reassuring and concerned.

"I'm sure you'll get the hang of it, my boy. Practice makes perfect, after all."

That made him feel better. So did the cider, warming him against the slightly chilly evening air. "Ooh, a hall of mirrors. Can we go?"

His keeper indulgently agreed, but as they explored all the distorted faces and neverending hallways, he gradually found it harder and harder to pick his feet up for each step. The mirrors began to blur and move, and he couldn't help a tiny whimper, covering his eyes with his hands to keep from getting dizzy enough to throw up. Hands on his shoulders steadied him, but he could still feel himself growing weaker. "Nn... I don't- I don't feel so good," he mumbled, clinging to the man's shirt for support.

"Hm." A cool hand pressed gently to his forehead, and the loss of even that little bit of balance made his legs buckle under him, forcing Maverick to catch him before he could hit the dirty wooden floor. "A bit too much, I think."

 _'Too much what?'_ he wondered fuzzily, but found it was hard to make his mouth work. Despite having just turned twelve, he was still on the small side, and Maverick carefully picked him up. He made a weak noise, huddling into the man's arms as the movement made the strange leaden feeling in his body worse.

The next thing he was aware of was being laid back in the passenger seat of the car.

And then that hand on his forehead again, much colder this time. "Get some rest," he heard the familiar soothing voice murmur from above him. "You'll feel better in the morning."

But for some reason, it _hurt_ , like ice being pressed into his skull, and it didn't get any better when fingers brushed through his hair.

He dreamed of Faiza and how her eyes would always go soft whenever she saw someone with a cat, but she didn't want to beg the grownups for one. And then she was gone.

He dreamed of Sean and how he always smelled of flowers and earth, even after one of the aides had hauled him into a bath. And then he was gone.

He dreamed of Mimi, the youngest and newest, and how she still woke up crying sometimes. And then she was gone.

One by one, they all faded. Ms. Johansson, Mr. Fierson, his room in the boys' hall, the hiding places for the cookies. And strange new dreams came to take their places. He remembered that he'd been named for his father. That when his powers had started to emerge, no one wanted to play with him anymore. That parents kept their children away from him.

And he remembered-

When he weakly cracked his eyes open again, Uncle Maverick's car was sitting in front of a building he didn't recognize. "Nnnh?" Barnaby asked weakly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

"How are you faring?" his caretaker asked gently, and he tried to blink away his blurry vision.

"Head hurts."

"Understandable. You got hit with quite a fever at the party."

Party. Right. He'd gone with Uncle Maverick to some costume business thing. He hadn't enjoyed it much, even before he'd taken ill. Too many grownups, and he'd spent most of the evening being ignored by everyone except his caretaker. A hand brushed his forehead, and he couldn't help a slight flinch. "Still a little warm. Why don't you stay here while I finish things up?"

"Okay," Barnaby murmured, resting his head against the cool window.

 

The older man in the suit had returned and asked for Rory's paperwork. The word of it had spread through the evening party like wildfire, and within minutes, all the kids were pressed to the windows at the front of the building, trying to wave to the small figure seated in the car outside despite the dim light. Lucky Rory, getting adopted on his birthday!

But why did he look so sad?

"Rory! Rory, hey! Hey! Good luck, Rory!" they all called to their friend.  
But never once did he ever look at them.

None of the kids understood why.


	2. Time Table Drawings Fade Away Slowly

His eyes snapped open, a half-swallowed gasp lodged in his throat. Coughing, he weakly pushed himself to sit up and put an unsteady hand to his head.

The dreams again...

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his eyes, then slid out of bed and put on his glasses, wandering over to open the curtains of his hotel room window. The city looked the same as it had the night before, but that fact didn't bring him much comfort. He leaned against the window, resting his forehead against the cool glass. He at least remembered that as having been a source of comfort before, but...

His breath fogged the glass a little as he watched people patter back and forth on the streets below, bundled against the cold and leaning against the wind. _'What if I used to know them?'_ he thought, though it was directed at no figures in particular. It had been a constant itch in his brain since he'd learned of Maverick's killing. Events that had never happened. Faces or names appearing in his thoughts and no way to match them to each other except by the vaguest threads.

 _'What the hell did you take from me?'_

 

 

Barnaby had told himself that he had no right to interrupt Kotetsu's life now that the man had finally found himself some stability with his family. He'd kept telling himself that even as the dreams came more and more often, as he'd found it harder and harder to think straight for all the confusing contradictions that kept appearing in his thoughts. But by Valentine's Day, he hadn't slept in nearly a week for trying to hide from it all, and he supposed he could blame that for why he pressed the button to dial sound-only.

He didn't know how he managed to get through the conversation with any sort of coherence, and the heavy note of suspicion in his former partner's voice was a blatant clue that his attempts at feigning nonchalance were a miserable failure, but he at least got the man to agree to a lunch meeting without too much questioning. He clicked the phone shut, then rested his head on his knees, breathing deep until he could get himself back together.

Right, then. Now he just had to _get_ there.

After a few minutes, he managed to push himself up off the floor to shower and dress, then re-packed what little he'd taken out of the apartment with him and went down to check out of the hotel.

 

 

With all the anxiousness settled in his stomach, staying awake during the train trip had actually been the easy part. Slightly more difficult had been trying to conceal the obvious signs of his deprivation. And worst of all had been when Kotetsu took one look at him, then hauled him out of the train station and into an alley, expression dark with concern. "H- hey, knock it off-!" he protested, trying to pull free before a hand could get near his face, but the way Kotetsu's eyes widened as the first swipe took off some of the makeup under his right eye made him freeze.

" _Shit,_ Bunny. Who the hell did you pick a fight with?"

"Nobody," Barnaby snapped, automatically going on the defensive before recovering and carefully squirming out of a now-loosened grip. "Nobody," he repeated, a little more quietly, trying to ease a little of the awkward tension before the knot in his stomach got any worse. "I just... haven't been sleeping well."

The concern was still there, but it had softened, tempered now by worry instead of anger. "This is why you called me, isn't it?"

"I-" he bit his lip and glanced furtively at the people passing by the entrance to the alley. None of them had noticed the two of them yet, but he still didn't want to take the risk. "Could we talk about it somewhere else?"

 

 

They ended up in the most hidden booth of a small deli, after Kotetsu had given him a few minutes to again hide the dark rings under his eyes. They'd ordered food, but he was having trouble making himself eat any of it, instead nursing a steaming cup of tea. "I think... my memories are trying to come back," he finally forced himself to say, so softly that the other man had to lean in to hear him.

" 'Trying'?"

"Nothing concrete. I might suddenly see a face that looks familiar, but I can't ever think of the name to go with it. Or the other way around. I see places, but I have no idea what they are. Dates pop up, and somehow they're important, but I don't remember anything particular happening on that day."

Barnaby heard a faint rattle, but thought nothing of it until Kotetsu reached across the table to take hold of his hand and pull it away from the tea cup, and then he was aware of the fact that his hands were shaking. Focusing on the warmth of his former partner's hand as a point of comfort, he swallowed thickly and made himself continue. "It was the worst when I was sleeping -that's why I _wasn't_ \- but now it's starting to happen when I'm awake, too. Flashes, auditory hallucinations..." He trailed off with a helpless gesture, and Kotetsu squeezed his hand.

"Bunny... Not that I don't want to help, but there are people a lot better trained to handle this sort of thing than I am."

It wasn't meant as a rebuke, but it still stung a bit, and he looked down at the food he hadn't touched. "I'm sorry. I haven't been thinking- I didn't know who else to call."

The grip on his hand tightened before he could pull away -retreat, hide- but he couldn't make himself look up from the table. "Hey," Kotetsu murmured, and the man's other hand brushed his hair lightly before lifting his chin. Barnaby's breath involuntarily hitched at the warmth in the other man's expression. "Just because I'm underqualified, that doesn't mean I'm gonna wash my hands of this. We're not partners anymore, but we're still friends, right? Besides," he added with a wide grin. "Kaede'd punch me if she knew I left you in the lurch, and she hits a lot harder now that she knows her old dad can take it."

He managed a small snort of laughter at that, and when Kotetsu pointedly looked at the bowl in front of him before letting go of his hand, Barnaby finally made himself swallow a little soup.

 

 

"What about that incident at the mall opening a year and a half ago?"

Halfway lost in thought, Barnaby almost didn't hear the older man, and looked up from the empty bowl with a blink. "Ah?"

"Those people who came up to talk to you sure acted like you were supposed to know them somehow. Do you remember?"

After a second, he did. The dark-skinned woman in a shayla and her redheaded male friend. He remembered being confused as to why they'd first called the name 'Rory' while making their way through the crowd... and even more confused why he'd turned as if he were going to answer to it. He remembered the lost feeling swirling in his head and settling into his chest as they'd talked to him excitedly about how cool it was he'd gotten control of his NEXT abilities, how everyone who had been in 'the home' was still rooting for him.

And he remembered their hurt disappointment when Sky High had interfered to save him from the uncomfortable situation, moving in front of him and waving over uniforms even as he tried to cheerfully calm the pair down.

 _"We can show ourselves out,"_ the woman had said coldly when security approached. The man had only looked crushed. _"Come on, Sean. We aren't good enough now."_

Barnaby bit his lip, forcing himself back to the present. "I almost tried to stop them from leaving," he said quietly. "Just this weird sort feeling that I _had_ to find out what the hell they were talking about. But I couldn't make myself move. And then you and Nathan were asking if I was okay, and it was like being hit with cold water."

"Yeah. You were pretty out of it for a little while, there. But you didn't want to talk about it, and nobody else wanted to pry."

He rested his head in his hands, careful to avoid the makeup. "Maverick called me into his office once we got back to Apollon, because of course he'd been watching to see the incident. He told me I was going to have to start watching my interaction with the public more closely, because everyone was going to act like they somehow knew me just to get closer." He couldn't help a bitter chuckle. "At the time, I thought it was good advice. I mean, we all got warned about stalkers, right? But now... especially knowing everything he did to me publicity-wise, I feel so stupid for having bought it."

"Hey." He heard Kotetsu shuffle around in the booth, then a heavy arm settled over his shoulders. "You're not stupid at all. He had _everybody_ snowed for decades, remember? And you've got a better excuse than anyone for having listened to him. And what if you _had_ talked to those two then?"

"He probably would have just made me forget it again," Barnaby admitted, then heaved an uncomfortable sigh. "But still."

Kotetsu gave him a little squeeze, then pulled away, and it was only when Barnaby lifted his head that he noticed the other man had swiped the check for their lunch. "I was going to pay for that," he protested when he caught up to Kotetsu at the counter.

"Uh-uh," the older man said, grin returning. "My hometown, I pay."

"But _I_ was the one who called _you._ "

"Yep, so?" Kotetsu asked, feigning cheerful obliviousness, and Barnaby rolled his eyes as they left the deli, the familiar banter easing his nerves a little. At least for the moment.

 

 

He'd put his foot down about staying in a hotel. Though he refused to admit as much, both of them were fully aware that he didn't want to subject Kotetsu's family to his current mental state. Which had initially only made the man more adamant that he shouldn't be staying alone. They'd finally settled on a compromise. Sort of. Kotetsu would back off and meet him for breakfast in the morning, but only if he agreed to get some damn sleep and call if the dreams woke him up again.

Which was why he'd been staring at his phone for the last five minutes, trying to make himself press the button to call. He glanced over at the clock beside his bed. 4:22. That alone would be excuse enough to ignore the selfish little part of him hoping for comfort and put the phone down; the old man had never especially been thrilled about ridiculous-hour-calls... But Kotetsu would be even _less_ thrilled if he showed up half asleep to breakfast and the other man figured out he'd broken their agreement.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he dialed.

"H'lo?" asked the sleep-slurred voice from the other end.

"It's me," he said, inwardly wincing at how rough it came out.

"What did you see?" Kotetsu asked, and Barnaby irrationally found himself wanting to laugh at how much more alert the man suddenly sounded. He bit his lip until he could get the urge under control.

"Same as before... Mostly useless flashes. But this time, I-"

"You what?" Kotetsu prompted gently when he faltered.

"I saw the two we were talking about earlier. Maybe. I'm not sure." He weakly rubbed his head, trying in vain to get his thoughts in some kind of order. "I _think_ it was them, but they were so much- It would have had to have been when I was a child. I would have to have known them then, but I can't-"

"Take it easy, Bunny," Kotetsu chided soothingly as agitation started to creep in. "It's something to go on. That's more than we had before."

"Right," he said, taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "Okay."

There was a faint hum from the other end of the line. "I think a change in breakfast plans might be in order. There's a place about three blocks east of your hotel that's a twenty-four-hour."

"Should you be leaving your house at this time?" he asked, glad for the opening to something mundane to latch onto.

"Eh, not like I haven't done it before. And at least this time, it's not to pick fights with other stupid teenage punks. I'll leave a note."

 

 

It had taken three weeks and several more of their not-so-clandestine early morning meetings before things changed. Whether his dreams had altered because of their talks and Kotetsu trying to help him record and walk through the flashes he got, or if it was more of Maverick's control ebbing away, he wasn't sure. But he'd finally had a concrete memory bubble to the surface of his mind.

"It was my birthday... I don't remember what year," he said as Kotetsu scribbled notes in the little book they'd been using. "I'd gotten sick at a party, and when I woke up, we were parked outside this building, and Maverick said he had to take care of something."

"You think the building's the important part?"

"I'm sure of it." Mostly. He closed his eyes in concentration, trying to make the picture in his head focus a little. "It's a huge brownstone. Old. _Really_ old. Front porch, Dutch-gabled roof, but the whole thing's not shaped right to be a house."

The vision started to get away from him, and he concentrated harder, closed his eyes tighter as if that would keep it there. "There's a wall around the grounds, with a gate. The driveway's circular, and there's a fountain in the middle. Trees inside and outside the wall... and gates on either side of the building to block off another yard."

Dammit, it was fading faster, and he clenched his hands, trying not to get frustrated. "It's not in the city. But not far away either. I can look out the car window and see Sternbild a few hills away. There's... There's something by the door, but I can't read it. I can't-"

A hand caught his shoulder and he jumped slightly, blinking. He briefly registered the worried look on Kotetsu's face, then looked down to see the deep bruises left where his nails had dug into his palms. Oh. "I'm sorry. That's all I can remember."

"You don't have to apologize to _me_. Just... stop trying to force it so hard. You've already got a pretty good picture, and I bet we can make some search progress with it. So stop giving yourself a headache." Kotetsu lightly knocked his knuckles against his forehead for emphasis, and Barnaby scowled at him, then nodded.

"Okay. Let's get started."

 

 

Unfortunately, without a clear picture of which direction away from Sternbild the building was, the search proved to be more challenging than they'd expected, even with all the assorted ground views that the mapping system provided them with. After three hours of hunting, he was beginning to doubt that the building even still existed. After all, things were torn down and replaced in the name of urban sprawl all the time, and it _had_ been several years.

He was just about to pull Kotetsu away from the computer terminal and suggest they give up when another mental flash blindsided him hard enough to leave him blinking at the computer screen in confusion for almost a full minute before he registered what it was. "Hold on a second," he said, leaning over the other man's shoulder to type in an address.

"What's up?"

"Maverick had a place near the ocean that wasn't very far from there. Maybe half an hour by car. He sold it and we moved into the city when I joined the Academy. Maybe we can use it as a secondary search point."

"Good thinking!"

He didn't remember beginning to doze during the hunt, but jolted when Kotetsu nudged him lightly. He opened his mouth to apologize for nodding off, but the older man waved it off and indicated the screen. "This look like it might be it?"

Barnaby rubbed aching eyes under his glasses, then looked at the screen, the picture clicking almost immediately. "That's it. The trees are still there and everything."

Grinning, Kotetsu started to scribble down the address. As Barnaby continued to stare at the screen, however, his curiosity started to nag at him. The plaque by the door was unreadable, but there was one by the front gate as well. His fingers hovered hesitantly over the mouse for a moment, then he clicked to zoom in.

And stopped breathing when he read the words etched into the metal.

 _Morningside Home for Children_

 

 

He'd allowed Kotetsu to drive. With the way tremors kept sneaking into his hands, and the way his stomach had knotted itself into a rather impressive cloverleaf, he doubted he would have been able to get them there in one piece. He'd barely even managed to hold it together long enough to set up an appointment with the home's director.

It only got harder to breathe as they pulled up to the gate, and Kotetsu took hold of his hand as they waited to be buzzed in. "We can still turn around," he said gently, but Barnaby shook his head. He was terrified, but as close as they were now, he couldn't let this drop. He couldn't find the words to say as much, but Kotetsu seemed to understand, lacing their fingers together as the gate opened.

There were details that hadn't appeared in the memory he'd managed to put together, like the small parking lot off the driveway, or the flower bushes on either side of the porch, or the toys scattered about in the grass. The flowers and the toys were of some small comfort, enough that he could let go of his former partner's hand long enough to let him shut off the engine once they'd pulled into the lot. Kotetsu offered his hand again once they'd gotten out and this time, Barnaby didn't hesitate, grateful for the offer of stability.

 

 

They ended up being guided to a waiting room by a pale, reedy man whose slicked back hair was nearly as white as the nurse scrubs he wore, who informed them that the director would be with them shortly. He hadn't fidgeted this much since before the entrance exam to the Academy, Barnaby thought to himself as they waited, and for not the first time, he was glad that Kotetsu had insisted on coming. At the moment, it felt like the contact point of their hands was the only thing keeping him in one piece.

They'd been waiting for about five minutes when the door clicked, then opened to admit a tall, sturdy black woman in a suit. Despite the severity of her gold-rimmed glasses and pulled back hair, her expression was friendly as she offered a hand for a firm shake. "It's been quite a long time, Mr. Brooks."

He hesitated, racking his brain, but couldn't come up with a name or a face. "I- I'm sorry- ?"

She smiled, accepting a handshake from Kotetsu as well. "You probably don't remember me. Fiona Allendale. I used to be the head of the girls' levels before Mirta Johansson retired from the director position."

That name didn't ring any bells either, and Barnaby couldn't help a tiny noise of relief when Kotetsu intervened with a quick request to step out into the hall for a moment. He couldn't hear what was being said, but judging by Kotetsu's gestures and the way Allendale went wide-eyed and put a hand to her heart, he could imagine the level of outlandishness the older man was coming up with in his tale of how the memory loss had happened.

 _'And yet it's still nowhere near being as outlandish as the truth,'_ he thought a little bitterly. When he looked up again, Kotetsu was coming back in alone and closing the door behind him.

"She went to go look up the records to see where you stayed," Kotetsu said, reclaiming his seat.

"Do I even want to know what you told her?"

Kotetsu scratched the back of his neck with a grin. "Probably not. Don't worry, though, it wasn't anything like a horrible accident involving a truck with a shipment of crazed squirrels or anything like that."

"That's not exactly comforting, old man," he said flatly, and Kotetsu merely chuckled, offering his hand again.

 

 

It was another fifteen minutes or so before the door opened again. "All right, gents, if you two will follow me?"

The knot returned to its place in his stomach as they got up to obey. They walked up the central staircase, then another, and on the third floor there were two glass doors on either side. "Left side is the girls' hall, right side is the boys'," Allendale explained as she unlocked the right door. "Fourth floor's the same way. Second floor is the playroom, the offices, and the baths, and first floor is the visitors' area."

"Not a bad setup," Kotetsu murmured as they walked down the hallway she'd opened. "Shouldn't there be some squirts running around, though?"

"Today's the annual zoo field trip to the city," Allendale said. "Nobody here but the bare bones staff for a few hours yet."

"Huh. That explains how we got the meeting set up so easy."

Barnaby couldn't contribute to the small talk, and it only got worse when they stopped at the seventh door on the right. "This... was mine?" he finally forced out.

"It's been rearranged and repainted several times, but yes," Allendale said, unlocking the door.

It took him a minute to finally step past the threshold, and he felt a strange chill when he did so as vague wisps of out of place things prodded at his mind. ' _The bed should be over here.' 'There used to be a desk there.' 'I kept my robot where that lamp is.'_ He closed his eyes, trying to fight down the shivers that went through his body as sets of memories pushed back and forth at each other. His head started to ring and his eyes started to sting, and he put his hands over his ears in an attempt to block out the noise as a wave of dizziness rose up with them.

 

 

"-nny. _Bunny_ "

Hands pulled his down, and he forced his eyes open to find Kotetsu holding him by the wrists and both his former partner and Allendale watching him in worry. "I- It's- a little more than I expected. Could- Is there somewhere I can sit for a minute?"

"Of course."

Allendale re-locked the room and guided them to another visiting area at the end of the hall. Barnaby unsteadily sank into one of the offered chairs, his head still ringing.

"Do you need anything?" Kotetsu asked, rubbing his back. "Water, some air?"

He took a deep breath, and it helped a little. "No. Just... need to stay right here for a bit." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Allendale seemed to have some kind of 'thinking' look on, then the woman snapped her fingers.

"I just remembered. We may have something in storage that might be a little easier to handle than full immersion. I'll be right back."

The confusion over what she was talking about was far better than dealing with everything else going through his head right now, so he let himself wonder what she was bringing him rather than think about the room that he had/hadn't lived in, and slowly, finally started to relax as Kotetsu continued petting him, occasionally muttering something that only half-registered.

"Here."

Barnaby numbly reached out to accept whatever was being offered, then tilted his head slightly when he realized it was a book of some kind. "What's this?"

"Home tradition. Whenever a child is adopted, the other kids make a scrapbook for them. Then we contact the adoptive parents and give them the option of having it sent to the child. It has our contact information, so besides being a keepsake, it opens a communication channel if the child has friends they want to keep in touch with."

He bit his lip, running his fingers over the cloth-bound cover.

Of course Maverick would have refused such a thing.

"Why is it still here?"

"Mirta was a bit of a memory packrat. She always kept the books that didn't get mailed out. After she left, none of us really had the heart to stop the habit or throw the old ones away," Allendale said with a faint chuckle. "But it _is_ yours, and you're more than welcome to take it with you."

"Thank you."

 

 

He ended up quietly clutching the book to his chest the entire drive back to his hotel, not even minding when Kotetsu began singing -badly- along with the radio in what had to be an intentional attempt at riling him. "You gonna be okay with that?" the older man asked when they reached his room.

Part of him selfishly didn't want to let go of his only support just yet. He quickly crushed it. "You should be getting back to your family. I'll be fine."

"Liar." He couldn't help flinching, but the almost fond tone in Kotetsu's chiding and the arm that slung around his shoulders eased the pang. "C'mon. I'll stay right here."

Barnaby protested as his former partner hauled him over to the bed and arranged them so that Kotetsu was sitting against the headboard and Barnaby was leaning back against his chest. Then warm, steadying arms wrapped around him, and he suddenly found it much harder to argue.

"Ready?"

He swallowed. "As I'll ever be," he said quietly, then made himself open the book.

The thing that struck him first and hardest was how... _happy_ the photos of him were. While he could remember being fairly content with his caretaker, he couldn't remember ever being the boy with the bright grin that he was seeing now. Dogpiled by other kids, climbing trees, waving from his perch on the shoulders of one of the home aides, even being pounced by girls who wanted to put ribbons on him, the child in the photos was always smiling.

He saw faces that had been hounding him in his dreams, with little scribbled signatures that finally gave them names. Faiza Rahimi. Sean Mason. Jakeem Forrester. Caleb Novak. Dozens of others matched to faces he had and hadn't seen before. Kids who'd played with him. Who'd written about how they hoped he had a nice family. Who said they missed him and wished him luck.

Who were still just vague images hidden under years and layers of false memories.

The stinging came back, and the pictures began to blur. He saw the first wet spot appear on a page and quickly closed the book as the tears came faster and harder.

Kotetsu held him tighter and turned him gently, and he clutched at the man's shirt and buried his face against his former partner's neck as the dam broke.

 

 

By the time he'd worn himself to nothing and lifted his head, it was dark outside. "Christ," he mumbled, weak and hoarse. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Kotetsu asked, running fingers through his hair.

"This can't exactly have been comfortable. And you should have been home hours ago."

Kotetsu made a disbelieving snort. "You are the only person on this _planet_ who would treat a totally justified nervous breakdown as a minor inconvenience."

"Oh, shut up." He'd intended for it to sound a little more disdainful, but it came out more like a watery laugh. "And I am not. You do it too."

"Okay, yeah, maybe," Kotetsu admitted sheepishly after a few moments of silence. "But the fact that you shouldn't be apologizing for it still stands."

Barnaby snorted and made himself push away to clean the tear streaks off his glasses, raising an eyebrow when Kotetsu's stomach decided to make a complaint about its empty state.

Then turned pink when his decided to do the same. "I suppose ordering something to eat couldn't hurt," he mumbled, reaching for the phone by the bed. Kotetsu made a faint laugh and got up to dig out his cell as he headed for the bathroom, probably to call his family. He finished putting in the order before the other man came back, and looked at the book lying innocently on the bed, but didn't touch it. "I hope soup and sandwiches are acceptable," Barnaby said when Kotetsu returned. "The kitchen was getting ready to close for the night, so I had to go with what they still had ready."

"It's fine. I told Kaede I'd see her tomorrow and she says she hopes you feel better."

"Oh. That's sweet of he- wait, tomorrow? Why?"

That earned him a _look_. "Okay, seriously, I am _not_ just leaving you alone for the night after the day this has been. Don't even try to argue with me on this one," he added when Barnaby opened his mouth to do just that. "Not budging."

Barnaby closed his mouth, then sighed when he found he wasn't up to their usual contest of glares either. "Fine."

 

 

When Barnaby opened one eye to find dawn sunlight peeking over the balcony railing outside, he winced. God, he didn't even remember falling asleep. Or even eating, though the empty bowls on the tray sitting beside the phone meant he must have. He also became aware of the feeling of arms wrapped around his waist and a warm, solid presence at his back, and even warmer breath close to his ear, and momentarily stiffened before his brain caught up.

Right.

Kotetsu had insisted on staying.

The arms around him tightened, knocking against something, and he looked down to find that at some point during the night, he'd picked up the book again, and it was snuggled to his chest as warmly as Kotetsu was snuggled to his back. And he realized he hadn't dreamed at all the entire time he'd been asleep.

He still felt wrung out from the day before.

Exhausted.

And yet... settled between the two, he felt _better_ , in a way.

For the first time in weeks, he had an idea of where he was going.

And he had a place to start from.


	3. Everything Will Make Sense To Me Then

Over the next several months, Barnaby occupied himself with pouring over any records he could find and all the information that Ms. Allendale was more than happy to provide him. With Kotetsu recording any flashes he had and helping him keep dates sorted, he slowly was able to put together the puzzle of the life he'd lived before Maverick had interfered.

Most of it, anyway. Unfortunately, there were just some cracks that would never be smoothed over; gaps that could never be filled.  
But he'd learned to live with it. Gradually, the headaches and dizzy spells that came when his brain skipped over a void grew easier to deal with. Though it sometimes took a little sedative help, he could sleep through the dreams and nightmares caused by multiple sets of memories warring for space. He didn't feel sick and lost constantly, disoriented by the constant itch of _what if_ brought on by certain things around him.

Barnaby didn't think he would ever be able to call himself _stable_ , but at least he'd found a footing that could keep him from falling for the time being. And it had been that newfound solid ground that had prompted him to finally visit his parents again, and to make some heavy decisions.

With all the help she'd given him in re-learning his old life, he felt a sort of... obligation to at least give Ms. Allendale the truth of his situation, and after two sleepless nights spent working up the nerve to tell any of it to someone besides Kotetsu, he finally went back to Morningside. The fierce hug - _"Oh, honey, if only we'd known," she'd said, and though he knew it wouldn't have mattered in the end, not with Maverick's ability and connections, the protective warmth and sentiment left him fighting back tears anyway_ \- and one last book of photographs tucked under his arm as he walked out of the building left him feeling lighter than he had in days. Once he'd settled behind the wheel of the rental car, Barnaby pulled out his cell phone to carry out one of his other decisions.

He called Agnes Joubert.

 

 

Barnaby'd been back on the hero circuit for two and a half months. Rebuilding the fight rapport between him and Kotetsu had been the easy part. Compensating for the shift in powers had been another story. But through heavy training and pulling out some of his parents' older work to make modifications to the Wild Tiger suit, soon they were back to the A squad and pulling a decent ranking.

They hadn't necessarily _intended_ to wind up living together, but between training schedules, having to test suit remodels, and Kotetsu watching out for him during the nightmares and the vertigo spells, it had just gradually _happened_ that eventually everything essential of Kotetsu's had ended up in Barnaby's new apartment. And after that, it had just made sense to move the rest in. After all, the place was more than big enough to accommodate them both.

And if he was to be completely honest with himself, after what they'd been through over the course of their retirement year and the weeks before, Barnaby really didn't trust himself to live alone anymore.

"Hey, Bunny."

Barnaby glanced up from the paperwork he'd brought home to find Kotetsu looking at the screen of pictures they'd been keeping as part of their research. "Hm?"

"...Nothing," Kotetsu said after a few moments, and Barnaby wondered what was going through his head. Before he could ask, his partner flopped down beside him on the couch. "Just an old man's mind wandering."

He snorted lightly. "Seems to be doing that a lot lately," he said, tone dry and disbelieving of the flippant explanation.

Kotetsu gave him a mock-wounded look, then casually stretched out across his lap, scattering papers.

"Hey!" The protest just earned him a too-innocent grin, and he belatedly realized that Kotetsu was trying to distract him. Reigning in his annoyance, he gathered up the papers that were still in reach and set them aside. "Seriously, though, what is it?"

Kotetsu sighed. "Kaede wants to enroll with the Academy at the end of the quarter-season, since it'll be the start of summer break for her."

"Well, that's good, isn't it? She'll get some training, make some new friends-"

"She doesn't want to live in the dorms."

"So? We have a whole room we're not even using yet. Making a bedroom for her would be no problem."

A hand reached up and touched the side of his glasses, then his cheek. "You sure you're okay with this?" Kotetsu asked, expression strangely concerned, and after a few moments, Barnaby figured out why he'd been staring at the photos.

"Things are... calming down, I guess is a good way to describe it. No more danger of hallucination fits or anything, and I can always ask for a new prescription if anything happens."

"Still, I worry."

"You always worry. I'll be fine," he said quietly, giving his partner's hair a reassuring, teasing little pull. He was touched by the protectiveness, but really, it wasn't like having the man's daughter was going to set off panic attacks or anything of the sort. "Besides, God knows I've been monopolizing your time too much again."

"Have not," Kotetsu muttered, rolling to his feet, but Barnaby caught the brief, tiny flicker of relief in the other man's face as Kotetsu pulled out his phone to start making arrangements. Unable to help shaking his head a little, he reached over and closed his research window.

 

 

As always, the best-laid plans didn't... well... go as planned. While she now knew him well enough not to squeal or get too anxious about sharing living space with him, getting Kaede settled in had still proven to be more of a challenge than any of the three were expecting, especially when every point of contact meant an unplanned burst of Hundred Power might be coming in the near future. Nevermind the occasional stray powers she came home with. And especially when their jobs, while slightly easier without the staged terrorist attacks, were still busy.

Somehow, Barnaby's next point of research had gotten lost in the cracks during all the chaos. Thought he still occasionally managed to make calls to Morningside, the most important question, the possibility of whether or not he could still find the children he'd grown up with, never seemed to come up until after he'd already hung up the call and had gotten his thoughts together again.

Sometimes he wondered if maybe he was unconsciously avoiding it. It wouldn't be the first time in this hunt that he'd done something of the sort, afraid of what he would find.

He tried not to let it haunt his thoughts too much, and wasn't thinking about it at all at the next event he'd been called to attend. Back during the calm period between the Martinez incident and Maverick's last betrayal, the Heroes had been called to a fire that had broken out in the Nightingale theatre commune. They'd managed to save everyone in the audience and on the performance roster, but the building itself and the gardens around it had been a complete loss, at least until the old director's granddaughter had thrown her effort and money into a full restoration. Of course the Heroes had been invited as guests of honor for the grand re-opening, and as they stood on stage in the central theatre, Barnaby didn't have much on his mind except to wonder how Kotetsu was doing, healing up at home from an injury sustained in their last mission.

And then he saw an achingly familiar flash of purple-flowered fabric. Though his heart jumped into his throat automatically, Barnaby bit his lip to contain himself. He couldn't be sure; after all, there were hundreds, maybe thousands of women who wore various sorts of hijabs in the city, and a simple fabric pattern wouldn't be so rare that it was a definite marker. And he'd gone so many weeks without searching that he had no reason to believe that coincidence would simply fall into his lap at this moment. But then the woman turned to say something to her smaller companion, and the second he saw her face, he _knew_.

For almost a full minute, he was frozen in place, then the pair got up to _leave_ , and the sudden fear that he might never get this chance again spurred him to speak without thinking.

"Faiza," he rasped weakly, before gaining control of his voice to try again. " _Faiza!_ "

The woman stopped in the midst of entering the aisle, turning to blink at him in surprise, and they both just stared at each other for a second before realizing that everyone else was now staring too.

At them.

Faiza pinked, expression closing a little, then made a hand signal that somehow he remembered as 'later'. Swallowing despite a suddenly dry mouth, he managed a nod, and she and the other girl vanished into the dark of the theatre. It was hard to make himself focus on the rest of the event after that. Thankfully, their host was gracious and gently kept the interviewers to their scripts, though he could tell that some fairly _itched_ to grill him about his "mystery woman." He was almost sick with relief when the festivities were over, and silently wished again that Kotetsu had been here to be his solid backup.

Especially when Agnes bore down on him with a scowl on her face as the Heroes left the stage. Just as he'd braced himself for the riot act and a demand for answers, however, Nathan smoothly swooped in from his left and intercepted his boss with a smile, pulling Agnes away towards the others instead. As they passed, the man favored him with a cheery wink, and Barnaby managed a quick nod of thanks before veering off to look for Faiza.

He found her waiting outside near the gate, looking over some azalea bushes. "Her mother already came to pick her up," she said when he glanced around for the girl who'd been with her. "My niece," she clarified after a second.

"I didn't want to impose by asking." Only now, as they fidgeted awkwardly and glanced at each other, did the full extent of how rash his earlier outburst had been hit him. "Um. Do you want anything to eat?" he finally asked, trying to at least manage decent manners despite the thick tension.

"We had lunch before we came to the show," Faiza said, before easing up just a tiny bit. "But if this place has a decent tea selection and you're paying, I won't say no to that."

A small laugh escaped him before he could catch it, and he offered his arm.

 

 

Their truce of sorts lasted until they were both sequestered in a booth away from windows and any potential cameras, steaming cups of heavily-sweetened tea and a nearly-empty pot of honey between them. "I owe you an apology. Or a lot of them, really."

Faiza gave him a measuring look. "I'd settle for an explanation. Why you acted like you didn't know us, for starters."

"Because at the time, I didn't," he said, and she raised an eyebrow. Taking a deep breath, he uncomfortably toyed with his cup, trying to think of a good way to put it. This was a lot harder than his conversation with Ms. Allendale had been. "Do you remember the incident awhile back when Apollon's CEO, Albert Maverick, was arrested?" he finally asked.

"That was the same case where your partner was framed for murder, wasn't it?"

The memory stung, but he bit back his emotions and plowed on. "Yeah. There was... a complication to that plan. All of us heroes knew Wild Tiger was actually Kotetsu Kaburagi. Maverick had to use a NEXT ability to make us all forget his civilian identity in order for the frame-up to work."

"A NEXT ability...?"

Barnaby hesitantly looked up from his cup to find Faiza staring into her own, a faint scowl on her face. He could practically _hear_ the wheels turning, and then her head snapped up, her eyes wide.

"He was... On your birthday. He was the one who came to adopt you."

"Yes."  
Faiza murmured something under her breath that he didn't understand, but was probably swearing. Barnaby held his breath, then let it out in a surprised noise when she made a short, sharp bark of laughter.

"I wish I could punch him," she muttered with a faint shake of her head.

"Believe me, the sentiment is shared by many," he said, successfully conjuring up a brief bit of wry humor. "But that's... the most basic way I can explain it. Until a little over a year ago, I honestly believed that Maverick had been my sole caretaker from the time I was four, and that he'd kept me from other children because he was concerned for my well-being. That was why I had no idea who you were. But that still doesn't excuse the way the situation was handled, or the fact that you two were hurt by it, and for that, I'm sorry."

"Rory-" Faiza started to say, then put a hand over her mouth. "I apologize. You probably-"

"No," he said, a little too quickly, then recovered. "No, it's okay. I don't mind."

The silence that fell again was still uncomfortable, but much less tense. After a minute or two, Faiza finally approached the question that he knew would have to come eventually. "How much do you remember now?"

"It's... kind of hard to quantify. My partner and Fiona Allendale have been helping me track down information, and that's brought some memories into focus, but... there's still a lot that feels more like I'm reading someone else's story than remembering mine."

"That makes sense. You know who Rory Brooks is, but that still doesn't mean you've connected with him."

"That's a really good description for it, actually. And I don't think I could ever be him again. But sometimes the knowing is enough. That's why I would rather you keep using the name. It's... a bridge, I guess."

Faiza nodded and finished her tea, then fished around in her purse and produced a small white card and a pen. "Well," she said, scribbling something down. "I think I'd like a few days at least for this to all sink in. But if you need any more bridges, I've got more than a few construction tools lying around."

The grin was infectious, and Barnaby found himself returning it as he accepted the card. The side she'd written was a cell number, obviously, but he blinked when he turned it over and found it was a business card for a private veterinary practice. "You always liked cats," he said without really meaning to, and this time, Faiza's smile was small and sad and fond as she patted his hand and got up.

 

 

He was only mildly surprised to find Nathan waiting for him when he left the theater's cafe. "I told our resident hellion I would spare you the indignity of a cab," the other man said as he clicked his phone closed after checking the time.

"Thank you," Barnaby said, falling into step with him as they headed towards the front gate. It was quiet until they'd left the commune grounds and were back on a road for downtown, then Nathan glanced in his direction.

"So you knew her after all."

He'd long stopped being caught off guard by the things Nathan knew or remembered, so Barnaby merely nodded. "I do now, yes."

Long manicured nails scratched lightly when an elegant hand reached over and ruffled his hair, but he found it more reassuring than annoying. "Good," was all Nathan said, but he didn't really need to elaborate any further.

 

 

The rest of the trip home was spent in comfortable quiet broken only by the sound of the radio, and he waved when the car pulled away after dropping him off. It had gotten dark, so he was only amused when he made it up to their apartment and found Kotetsu and Kaede snoozing on the couch. Reaching over the sleeping man, Barnaby stole the remote and switched off the tv. Kotetsu made a small snort and one sleepy eye cracked open.

"Sorry," Barnaby murmured. "I was trying not to wake you."

"S'okay. What time is it?"

"A little after ten."

"Was there a call?" Kotetsu asked, a little more alert, and Barnaby shook his head.

"No, just got sidetracked for awhile," he said, handing over the card he'd been given.

Kotetsu accepted the card, squinting at it for a second before making a soft noise. "Damn," he murmured, then quickly checked to make sure Kaede hadn't heard him swear. Muffling a laugh, Barnaby sank into a chair beside the couch. "Still, this is great, though, isn't it? I know we've been busy a lot lately, but-"

"Yeah," Barnaby said. "Having another starting point like this might help me get back on track for a bit. I haven't even called Ms. Allendale in a week."

"Bad Bunny. You're probably making the old lady worry."

"She's only a few years older than you," Barnaby replied dryly. As he closed his eyes to get a little sleep himself, he thought he noticed Kotetsu giving the card an oddly calculating look, but the curiosity faded as he drifted off.

 

 

As they shed their outer suits to change after another completed mission, Barnaby noticed that Kotetsu kept glancing at him and fidgeting. He raised an eyebrow at his partner and, clearly caught and guilty, Kotetsu quickly looked away.

Hm.

He'd been catching those little glances more and more often, and he knew exactly what they meant.

Kotetsu was hiding something.

It couldn't be something particularly serious, Barnaby reasoned. His partner was better at being sneaky when he genuinely thought it was necessary. And it had to have something to do with him, or Kotetsu wouldn't be so antsy about him finding out. And after he caught father and daughter whispering conspiratorially and both had quickly given him identical smiles and waves, he knew that whatever it was, Kaede had to be in on it.

Getting it out of Kaede would be an impossibility, he decided. Normal methods worked on her about as well as a fork would break a brick wall, and felt guilty about possibly resorting to charm. Best to leave her alone.

But when he started picking up on the same "Let's Keep Stuff From Barnaby" cues from his other coworkers, _then_ he started to get frustrated.

And then he realized what the upcoming Monday was.

"Whatever insanity you're planning this year, you can forget it," Barnaby said flatly when Kotetsu approached him in the gym Friday evening, hand raised in greeting. A tiny evil part of him was actually gratified to see the startled deer in headlights look that suddenly crossed the other man's face as Kotetsu froze.

"Ah. W-well. Um. Whatever gave you the idea I was..." Kotetsu trailed off under a flat glare, then awkwardly scratched the back of his head. "Okay. Caught. But still- _hey!_ "

He'd finished getting dressed and had turned to walk past his partner, but the other man caught his arm. "Look, I have no interest in-"  
"Would it help if I told you it wasn't entirely my plan?" Kotetsu wheedled. Barnaby eyed him, then sighed.

"Fine. Let's just get this over with."

 

 

To his relief, there were no people in hoods and masks waiting for them in the parking garage, and no surprise threats waiting for them as they drove. However, he soon recognized the route they were taking. "Why are we going to the Nightingale?"

"Can't tell you yet," Kotetsu replied cheerily, and Barnaby fought the urge to roll his eyes. The parking lot outside the gate was mostly full, probably for the evening performances, but the man at the ticket booth just smiled and buzzed them through when they approached. Rather than heading for one of the main stages, Kotetsu pulled him by the arm to a stairway beside the director's office, and up to a huge dining hall with a lit up archway for another show.

"What's this? I thought all the performances were downstairs."

"Well, all the running ones are, but there used to be shows up here too before the fire. They just haven't got acts to fill them yet," Kotetsu said, producing a small ticket to feed into the odd-looking machine by the door-

" _SURPRISE!_ "

 

 

Barnaby supposed he could be forgiven for nearly hitting the ceiling at the sudden flood of people that erupted out of the dark theater when the door opened. Managing to recover his balance, if not his wits, he blinked stupidly at the crowd of unfamiliar grinning faces, unsure for a moment how to react.

Then he noticed his coworkers, with Kaede sitting high on Antonio's shoulders.

Then he saw Ms. Allendale.

Then he saw Faiza.

"What... is all this?" he managed to squeak, and Kotetsu slung an arm around his shoulders.

" _This_ , my cute and fluffy partner, would be the genius plan of my adorable and brilliant daughter."

" _Dad_ ," Kaede protested in embarrassed exasperation as Antonio let her down to approach. Barnaby managed not to flinch as she took hold of his sleeve, tugging him down to eye level. "And it wasn't all _my_ idea. Miss Faiza and Ms. Allendale and Nathan helped too. We thought that maybe instead of just having a plain ol' birthday party... maybe it could be a reunion too."

Reunion?

Still a little in shock, Barnaby glanced around, and realized there was at least one other face he knew, as Sean waved at him from near one of the tables. And if Sean was here and Faiza was here and Allendale was here... Kaede pulled him by his jacket sleeve into the crowd, and he was caught up in a whirlwind of well-wishes and re-introductions and food and drink.

And pictures. Apparently everyone had been told in advance about what Ms. Allendale had been helping him with, if not the entire reason why, because everyone had boxes with books, disks, or folders in them, and everyone had notes or verbal stories to go with each one.

He learned that Jakeem had developed a NEXT ability two years after him. The skill of creating constructs and images with light was proving to be quite useful now that he was working his way towards a detective position. More amusingly, he'd traded in his dreadlocks and favorite goggles in for a shaved head, goatee, and reading glasses.

He learned that Rachel Mieps had met her wife Leah Kors while they were both in a study abroad program for culinary school. They were three and a half months away from their second anniversary, and still putting up with terrible jokes from their family and friends about their names.

He learned that Sean had, unsurprisingly, developed a fondness for studying rare birds, and had just finished his third trip into the Amazon to document a long-lost species he'd actually helped discover. He had hundreds of gorgeous drawings to share, thankfully in disk form rather than paper.

Faiza now had a brother and sister and four nieces, all of whom helped after school at her practice. The youngest was showing signs of a potential NEXT, and already crowing about how she was going to dominate the Hero boards when she grew up.

He heard of marriages, of children, of the families that everyone had been adopted into. It was dizzying. But, in a way, exhilarating. And through all of it, he was rather grateful that Kotetsu stuck by his side, cheerfully adding his own commentary to the conversation. Commentary that got a little more colorful as everyone got a few drinks in them.

No one was sure who started it, but gradually the stories changed from being told _to_ him to _about_ him. None were... _spectacularly_ embarrassing, though his coworkers found the ones about hair ribbons to be particularly funny. Somehow the subject of other birthdays came up in the crush of tales, and an affectionately teasing, somewhat misty toast was raised to "the patron saint of Halloween birthday cakes," before the tornado of stories picked back up.

It was nearly four in the morning when the last of the guests filtered out of the dining hall. The younger Heroes had long since left, and at some point, Kaede had dozed off stretched across his and Kotetsu's laps, making for a few awkward goodbyes. Exhausted and maybe a little drunk, Barnaby leaned against his partner, not really inclined to move since the theatre director had told them no one would be coming by to clean the mess until the afternoon.

"So?"

"So what?"

"How do you feel?"

"Well, besides the obvious... I'm not sure. Lightheaded... Overwhelmed... Maybe a little sick. In a good way, though, I think."

"There's a good way to be sick?" Kotetsu asked with a slightly goofy grin, and Barnaby gave him a light punch in the side.

"Oh, shut up," he muttered without any real annoyance to it, and only got a faint chuckle in return. Fingers brushed through his hair then down to knead lightly at his neck, and he sighed, resting his head against his partner's shoulder.

"I know it's technically not until Monday, but happy birthday, Bunny."

Barnaby tilted his head slightly, looking at all the 'presents' resting in their boxes and waiting to be taken back to their apartment. Not all of the stories he was given had been good. Caleb Novak's wife had come, and told him of how her husband had gotten into a fight with his birth father when the man had showed up at their house. Neither had walked away. Rachel had been the one to tell him that Mimi Ferrer, the girl who'd been the newest arrival when Maverick had come for him, had gone missing as a field medic two years earlier, and the search had finally been given up not long ago. Their pictures were in the boxes too. And so were pictures of Samantha, taken every year when she'd brought the cakes to the children's home.

Bittersweet reminders.

But reminders all the same.

So much more than he'd ever had before.

Barnaby smiled, relaxing into the absent petting. "Best one I can remember in a long time," he murmured as he closed his eyes.


End file.
